Another notice, penned for any interested.

Melweaver

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Trafalgar F. Brodvek | Aion D.
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[!]
Yet another notice, pinned to any notice boards or open spaces within most nations, in moderation, of course! once again.. rather shitty hand writing...


Hello again! I bet you're all awfully tired of these flyers, I've high hopes I won't have to post them for much longer!
Right! straight to business, I'm starting to run out of paper. After the success of /most/ of our ventures into the unknown, notably, the rather tame visit to hell, my recent hubris has granted me the confidence to embark on another, back to the original, the one that may or may not have been my fault.
For any worried, I have much more of a plan this time, though I know many won't approve of my means- so I won't be noting my plans in this notice, as usual.

An aim! See- I've learned the tiniest bit... Adding more content to these things, since so many complained...
we'll be attempting to destroy another of the constructs, one that lays within one of the subsectors of the temporal realm- I've received aid from a higher entity, you need only transport me to the being, everything will unfold from there- for better or for worse, once again... not the most sure what will happen!

So, overall, rather similar to our previous, successful venture, if this is to succeed, we're one step closer to fixing all this madness, which means- less conflicts with ethereal beings, including that hulk that deafened both Inaya and Orlan, as well as halting any energies that are currently encroaching on the balance rune.

And to any who still doubt me, I didn't cause any of this of my own accord, the things I do- the deals I strike, they're all made in an attempt to resolve /my/ mess, one that I'm endlessly sorry for, please do not blame me, if you wish to come best of luck- I will of course, provide more information to those who come to me in person, perhaps even holding a briefing before we enter.

We'll meet in Promdor 3 months from the day this is penned.
Kind regards, Spiral boy.
6 pm, saturday est! ty to all the people who come to my silly gatherings.[/SPOILER]
weeee (1).png
 
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Sukitoru

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"You people are insane." Spoke a woman.

Beneath her irrelevant gaze, the letter slowly began to wrinkle between her weathered, witchlocked hands. Her nails slowly pushed into the parchment, piercing the dried velum, and the ink began to smudge. She took a deep breath, as if to calm down, and it didn't seem to hold.


"You people use these words and say these things like they make sense." The irrelevant adventurer began.

"Like 'subsector of the plane' makes sense - Like 'a rather tame visit to hell' is believable."

"Are the people of Enarion growing dull? Are they falling to some kind of sickness? Is their brain being addled with holes from the peace they've grown fat with laziness from?"

"This is the first age where things like the undead are praised or documented as if some kind of magical wonder, and people treat the planes like some kind of college field-trip as opposed to an actual danger."

"People are being hurt. People are being scarred for life, and every day, something new and terrible happens -- and people treat it as if it's normal. Typical. 'Whatever', they say."

"The Cult has grown weak. Frail, if things like these can go on for so long unpunished, like a festering wound crawling with bugs and pus."

"People go around saying they have five souls, go around saying they're cursed or have made deals with demons 'for good', go around giving away their soul -- talking about these things like they make sense, or they're fact -- and the fools -"

The paper rips apart in the irrelevant woman's hands. Her eyes burn like ember-coals in a roaring forge, and she grips the edges of the page, her breath ragged and irate. Her hands are shaking with anger -- like she herself was going mad from the infuriation. They deeply inhale, before screaming a ragged and exasperated wail, finally exploding in rage.

"THE FOOLS BELIEVE THEM!"
 
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Pinks__

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that boy is going to get himself killed... they are playing him like a fiddle and he doesnt even realize it.. " A lone velnari said as she crumbled up the missive
 
OP
Melweaver

Melweaver

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I DUNNO HOW TO DO THESE, SORRY FOR THE SHIT GRAMMARR!
 

Totalore

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A cracked, stone square of a building, glistening over the mountaintop, kept in its humble silence. In the decade, not a soul came from or to it. Solace; peace in the building's sorrowful state as another brick of its stone wall came tumbling. A living doll shook as their eyelids split from each other, the morning sun greeting their fake, porcelain eyes. Then, the door swung open, a brisk air blowing away the paper that sat in the doll's hand. Though green-skinned, a woman of similar eyes halted at the open entrance.

"Enjoying yourself?" the green-skin asked, and they grew insightful of the small room. "Here; why? Why do you live here, in this broken home of mine?"

Her jaw twitching, the sitting, motionless doll wished to speak. She couldn't; the rust of her anatomical mechanics restricted her. The doll was in the same place she was a decade ago; the same position, the same posture. It was an obstruction of duty for her to come away from it.

"You don't have to talk," acknowledging, the green-skin continued. "You know where you are? I sat in that chair. I was Dwarven, then. Yes, that was so, so long ago. Bloodaxe—" she huffed "—I can harshly remember."

Walking to a near, stone table, the woman swiped her fingertip across its cracks.

"They're doing it again: going to 'save the world.' I saved the world, too, one time," spoke She, and her clacking heels sounded her body twist. "But I'm tired, you know? Of Atrina, of Clothous, of Knowherr, of everything else. Every time I find myself in one of their situations, I feel they're nothing but a joke. Simply, it is just not worth it to participate."

Nothing coming from her brows, the doll chose not to protest.

"So much happens. At every turn, there's a new threat against the world. I'm tired, aren't you?" hopping onto the stone table, the woman cast out a sigh. "At this point, I wish for nothing but peace. I wish for the Dwarves to not be so genocidal; I wish for the 'Temporal' wannabes to not be so ridiculous; I wish for people to stop acting important—" she quit, hopping off the table, but started again. "I don't think you will understand. A body with much potential, and there is nothing to guide you to it."

Huffing, patting the rear side of her pant leg, the complaining woman walked to the entrance. Turned to the doll, but her face did not share gratitude.

"I'm going. I don't think I'll come back, and I hope I won't. This place is yours; you are your own. Don't wreck it," she turned, lacked her hands behind her back, and moved to the exit. "Kaira is sure to complain."

Time passed, and the doll's eyes were closed again. Creeking them open, the surrounding changed. Neatly made, bookshelves lining the wall and a well-carved desk in the middle of the room, she awoke in a nobleman's office. Much like a dream playing on loop, the room's door swung open, air flapping the desk's papers. In came a gawking, suited man. Handsome, tall, well-mannered.

"Miss," he greeted and spoke a few more words the doll could not hear. She was distracted.

Only, like clockwork, she stood, hands brushing her dress, and walked to the desk. The man sat and she stayed standing, folding papers over and sliding them into organized piles. As she did so, her thoughts lingered on the dream, the lady; her history, and what she spoke of. She didn't speak throughout her organization, only nodding to the man. Walking to the side of the room when done, eyes lingering on a portrait of her and the man—the man holding a black cane, another hand firmly laid to rest on the doll's shoulder—thoughts exempted from her mind.

"Have you packed?" he asked.

Blankly, the doll stared.

"For?"

"Heavens," the man drooped his shoulders. "Enarion."
 

neptunish

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Took some time, but, the fingers of her left hand were unbandaged. Of course, by her own doing, but had no adverse effects, luckily enough. With these fingers seeing light again, she runs them along the missive, underlining each word she read: for this seemed longer than the last. Upon reaching an end, whether it was disappointment or fear upon her face was hard to tell, moreso as she felt both.

"Again? How many more, after this?"

Her voice doesn't share the tone of her expression, instead rather neutral. Once she had read through the missive, her hand rests by her side, and the woman began her walk away. Some reflection done as she heads off, mainly of herself- the path she had chosen, and the milestones along it.

"Are we all just... hungry to test the barriers? All the mentors of all those involved with this must've told them things like this were bad. Some time, at least once."

A sigh, shaking her head, all of it quiet as she passes people in the street.

"Fine. Push your luck, but..."

The very thought of the 'hulk that deafened Orlan and Inaya' was enough to make her shudder. A glance is given to her right arm: the state it's in whilst regrowing.

"So long as you end your drama with your life, nobody will need you back. I'll sleep fine, should the day come."
 

Onon

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"Oh, another fun adventure with Aion? Sign me up I suppose!" The range humed thinking for a bit "Should be fun, at least he knows something of this place unlike last time we went to hell. Hope people didnt lose faight in him after that one... we will just see. Lets hope no brain dead human will try and stop us from entering this time around!" The elf chukled at the memory before walking off leaveing the notice behind
 
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A elf read over the missive, on their side a curious weapon rested.
“Perhaps banishing you from the sacred south wasn’t enough. Degeneration grows with every generation, allowing for sick minded fools to wander the plane the stars and sea bestowed upon us.”
And with that said, the elf left.
 
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The young man retrieved the crumpled missive from the floor, his brow raised in a curious fashion. After briefly skimming through the words, he frowned. "Erm... Temporal Realm?" he mumbled aloud. With a sigh, he made a few notes in his tome. "I'suppose I should see where this goes..."
 

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